Between the Shadow and the Soul
by Lady in the Willows
Summary: Thanks to a complication involving past lives and a sadly undeveloped psychic talent, Sybil Callaghan is dragged into the Joker's plans for the destruction of Gotham. Of course, when it comes to women, nothing ever really goes according to plan.
1. Acquainted

Disclaimer: I do not own this. I just own most of the Callaghan family and anyone else you don't recognize.

**Between the Shadow and the Soul**

Acquainted

My name is Sybil Callaghan and I am a Sensitive. Other people might call me psychic or empathic but that isn't really what I am. I'm a raw, untrained blend of psychic talents. For the most part that is my fault. As a child no one bothered to get me a person with developed gifts to help me control what I had. It would have looked bad for my uncle, after all. Needless to say I'm not fond of him or any other politician. Now that I'm an adult it's simply my own fault that I haven't sought help. I know why although I can't admit it out loud. I don't trust people enough to let someone try to help me.

Bruce Wayne wasn't the only one who lost his parents when he was a child even if he acted like he was for a while. Ever since he came back he's been light-hearted about the whole thing. Maybe I should go abroad. Apparently it works wonders.

I was six when my parents died. A drug addict rammed his car into my parents' and killed them. Dad died instantly but Mom lingered for about ten minutes. I was in the back of the car. Those were the days that I refused to wear a seatbelt. Needless to say, the crash did not leave me uninjured thanks to that little habit. My head had smashed into the crumpled side of the car and I was bleeding. I can still remember feeling my mother dying. It was one of those bad days when my sensitivity was high. She was afraid. Afraid of dying and leaving my sister and me alone.

Erin was barely a year old when our parents died. She doesn't remember them. She only remembers me. I took care of her. After I got out of the hospital and gave my statements to the police, I felt empty inside. I hadn't stopped crying since the men in uniforms got me out of the car. Then I got home and I realized my sister needed me. I had something to do with my life. That's been my purpose ever since.

Now I'm twenty-six and Erin just turned twenty-one. Somehow we've turned into complete opposites. She's small, curvy and blonde. She loves being in the spotlight, which is lucky since our uncle is the mayor. It seems there's a special unit in the press dedicated to covering Mayor Garcia and his family. He loves to play up the fact that his sister and brother-in-law were killed thanks to the drug trade and that he's dedicated to cleaning up the streets. He's all about image. I haven't forgotten that he barely paid attention to us when we were children except when the press was around.

Technically I live alone in a small apartment in the city but Erin comes over so often it's like I have a roommate. She brings light into the tiny world I've made for myself. I humor her when it comes to hunting for rich husbands and glamorous parties. She and I both know I don't belong in her world. I circle around her spotlight, making sure that no monsters intrude on her happiness. The problem with my role is that I can never be part of her light and so we're separate. There's a distance between us. Erin is the princess and I… I'm a freak.

She tries desperately to make that not true by dragging me to parties and buying me all the latest fashions. She sets me up with her posh friends and hopes we'll mesh. But it doesn't work. I know what I am and I accept it. There's no changing my nature. Still, the one thing Erin and I have in common is stubbornness. She has yet to give up on me and I don't have the heart to tell her there's no hope.

So it's my fault, really, that I ended up playing a game for her life with the one man in Gotham that has no rules. What happens next is my doing and I can't make excuses for myself. I am Sybil and this is my story.


	2. Magnets

Magnets

If I didn't love my sister so much I'd kill her. I don't know why I was so surprised when I saw what Erin had gotten me to wear for her latest night out on the town. She's pulled this stunt before and clearly hasn't taken the hint. I'm not comfortable in my own skin so showing it off isn't really my thing. Still, that doesn't stop Erin from sticking me into attention-catching dresses.

This one was a two-tone dress that went from fire engine red to black. It had a halter that tied behind the neck and a plunging V-neck line. Add the red leather stilettos and I was in a unique version of hell. Oh, and let's not forget the padded bust. Unlike my sister, I am not generously endowed. At least this dress wasn't knee-length.

"Isn't it stunning? They're won't be a man at that party who won't want to take a second look," my sister had gushed happily. That was the only reason I did these things. I liked seeing her happy. So after three hours of bonding with my sister over make-up and hairstyles, the two of us waited in the elevator bringing us up to Bruce Wayne's lavish semi-political bash.

"Why did I let you talk me into these heels?" I mumbled, leaning against the elevator wall to take pressure off my feet. They were already seriously unhappy with the way they'd been arched for the last twenty minutes. Walking without letting the pain show on my face was officially my top priority.

"Beauty isn't about comfort," Erin pointed out. "And you look stunning." I looked at her, sparkling and beautiful in a golden evening gown. Her blonde curls were bound at the top of her head and spilled around her porcelain doll face. She really was a beautiful girl. I couldn't think of her as a woman. I probably never would. Erin was perpetually young and hopeful. Soon one of the many rich boys in this city would scoop her up. Of course, he would have to get past me first.

"So have you picked a husband yet? I encourage you to be quick about this so I don't have to keep going places with you," I teased her with a grin. Erin rolled her dark blue eyes.

"I know someone I'd like to marry but he's tragically unavailable." She let out a heartrending sigh and I smirked. I could guess who was so tragically unavailable.

"You have a thing for Bruce the perpetual playboy. I would give up on that one if I were you. Besides, you-"

"Deserve better," she finished for me. "Maybe I don't want someone better. Maybe I just want a guy who's hot and fun." I just shrugged. Honestly, who was I to give advice? I'd only tried dating once. After the empty first kiss I'd shared with the son of a wealthy businessman, I'd sworn off men. They couldn't take my weirdness and I couldn't take theirs.

"It's your choice. Just be aware that if he breaks your heart, I'll break his," I warned her. Erin was still giggling when the elevator dinged and opened its doors. She liked to pretend I was kidding when I said things like that. We both knew I was as good as my word.

"Look, there's Jenny and Richard! Come on, we have to say hi," Erin said. She took my hand and I closed my mouth tightly to keep back the groan that wanted to escape. This was going to be a long night.

I'm not really crazy about Bruce Wayne but I owed him for his very distracting entrance to the party he was throwing for the district attorney, Harvey Dent. The helicopter and three attractive women on his arm drew everyone's attention. Then after his speech about believing in Mr. Dent, my sister followed after him like a star struck teenager. I took the opportunity to make my escape to the far side of the rather large room. With a glass of champagne in my hand, I stood next to the window and stared at my reflection in it. _Very attractive, Sybil, _I thought sarcastically. The surroundings were charming. Expensive tile floors, walls that were mostly made up of windows, sparkling lights and tables with flower arrangements, food and champagne glasses. It was me that stuck out. My small mouth looked pouting under red lipstick and whatever Erin had done to my eyes made them appear large and an even darker blue than usual. And my hair, _ugh_, my poor, tortured hair. It's pinned to the back of my skull in a bun while a few wispy curls border my face. Well, they used to be curls. Now they're just stray hairs and my head is beginning to ache from the pressure of the pins in my head.

I deliberately cross my eyes so I saw double. There were two of me, one formal and one not. One suffering in heels and one wearing a large sweater and comfy slacks with Emily Dickinson tucked under her arm and reading glasses perched on her nose. I know which one is Sybil and which isn't. I'll give you a hint. It's the one with glasses.

"Miss Callaghan, you're going to get a reputation for being a wallflower if you're not careful." I looked over my shoulder at the source of the smooth, older voice. He had white hair and a friendly face. I smiled.

"Alfred, it's good to see you again. You're always the highlight of Mr. Wayne's parties." The elderly butler chuckled.

"Perhaps if you did more than hide in the corner and nurse a single glass of champagne for over an hour you wouldn't think so."

"I doubt it," I replied, taking another small sip of champagne. I have a very strict policy when it comes to alcohol. Drink it slowly and stop at the first sign of dizziness. My shield against emotions, visions and other supernatural bombardments is fragile. The last thing I need is to get drunk and let it slide.

Then the room tilted and the glass slid out of my hand. Alfred barely managed to catch it before it smashed against the floor. I could see his mouth moving but I couldn't hear him. There was a roaring in my ears like wind and, after a minute, laughter. High-pitched, frightening laughter.

"Miss Callaghan!" I abruptly snapped back, stumbling a little as my ears began to properly function again. Alfred, the poor dear, looked as if he was about to have a heart attack.

"I'm so sorry, Alfred. I don't know what got into me," I murmured, pressing a hand against my head. Something was wrong with me. Something important. My senses hadn't gone haywire like that for years. And… it wasn't over. I could feel a pressure building up inside my head. My hands were shaking, empty and bare but it felt like I was wearing gloves. "I need my sister."

"I'll get her for you. Stay still and try not to move," Alfred instructed me. He didn't know what was wrong but he wanted to help. I appreciated that. Still, I couldn't wait for him to wade through the crowd and find Erin. I'd have to do it myself. Without finesse I brushed through the guests with my thoughts, trying to find my sister. People shivered and frowned, unsure as to why they suddenly felt out of sorts. I found my sister and I could feel her jump as she felt me. Erin was used to my quirks. She knew I needed her, needed the calm and comforting presence she was for me. _Sybil, I'm coming._ A gunshot went off and I felt her panic as she shrieked.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen." The voice was high but definitely male. And the minute I heard it I fell over. _Joker._ "We are tonight's entertainment." I tugged off my shoes then ripped the pins out of my hair. The pressure in my head was too much for me to pretend that I was anyone but Sybil the bookworm, the Sensitive… the _freak_. And this man's voice was making it worse. "Only have one question. Where is Harvey Dent?"

The Joker, the guy from the news. I couldn't see him from my position on the floor but I'd heard about what he looked like. In fact, the only thing I didn't know was why my powers were freaking out.

What was worse, Erin knew something was wrong. She'd felt me reach for her and now she couldn't see me. There were men with guns in the room, no safe place to hide. Where else would she want to go but to me? _Sybil! Can you hear me? Sybil! _I could hear her but…

"You know, I'll settle for his loved ones." I pressed both hands to my head. The Joker was pulling all my power toward him but I didn't know how he was doing it. Nothing like this had happened before tonight. It was then that I noticed I was moving. My legs had been pushing against the tile floor, sliding my body forward in tiny increments in the direction I knew the Joker's voice was coming from.

_What's happening to me?_

"Where are you going, cutie?" I frowned then realized that wasn't directed at me. Far from it, that was a voice my sister was hearing across the room as she'd tried to dart past the thugs as the Joker had moved toward Rachel Dawes. I blinked but my vision had blurred between what was in front of me and what Erin was seeing. A masked face, a gun… The gun made me forget about my powers, the Joker, anything beside the fact that some bastard was pointing a gun at my sister.

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered as he moved toward her, a hand outstretched. He thought she was pretty… He wanted her… Before he could so much as touch my sister I had my hand locked on his wrist.

"If you don't turn around and stop looking at her, I promise you'll lose one of your eyes." He snorted, barely glancing at me as he tried to shake off my hand.

"Wait your turn, babe." Erin backed up as quickly as she could when she saw the look on my face. She knew as well as I did that when I promised something, I didn't go back on it. I got a better grip on my stiletto heel and shoved it into his eye. I could feel his pain, a quick flash before I blocked it out. His scream wasn't as easy to ignore. I'd officially gotten the attention of the entire room. "You crazy bitch!"

"And proud," I snapped, gripping Erin's arm and tugging her behind me.

"Sybie," she whispered, frightened enough to refer to me by the name she'd given me when she was tiny.

"Move, Erin," I commanded firmly as I slowly backed up and kept everyone with a gun within my line of sight.

"Don't move," one of the clowns said, aiming straight at me. He didn't want to shoot me. I could feel that so I continued backing up.

"Go ahead and shoot me. I'm not fond of this dress anyway."

"But it's so _flattering_."

I don't know how to describe what happened next. It was as if the whole world had slowed. I keenly felt the brush of my hair across my shoulders, the breath that had suddenly become caught in my throat. The forward sway of my body toward the voice of a legitimate psychopath. My vision blurred and suddenly I was drowning in the pressure building up in my head. I could only find relief my surrendering and moving forward. Thankfully, that isn't what I did.

"Sybie," Erin squeaked, reaching forward and gripping my arm. In that instant I was anchored back into my body. Time began to move again and I could see. Not that seeing was so great once I could.

When I had my three-inch heels on, I almost reached the Joker's height. Now that I was barefoot, not so much. His hair was grungy and the tinge of green made it appear as if it had begun to mold. White make-up was smeared across his face, dark kohl lined his eyes and his unnaturally wide smile was painted red. I got the impression of a dark purple suit and green waistcoat before dark brown eyes caught my attention.

"You sure made a mess trying to save the princess there. She your girlfriend?" I backed up a step, locking my fingers around my sister's hand. She was the only thing keeping me sane. There was no way I could give that up while facing a murderer. I also knew that he was fishing for information by baiting me.

"I'm her sister," Erin protested, shock clear in her voice. My eyelid twitched but I didn't break eye contact with the Joker when I addressed her.

"Honey, could you avoid handing out personal information to terrorists from now on?" He let out a screeching laugh. I immediately recognized it. I'd heard it only a few minutes before he'd come out of the elevator. He was in my head. How?

"Big sis protecting little sis. How adorable. Now, could I get a name to go along with the pretty face?" he inquired as he approached us with a peculiar swagger. "And, perhaps, the location of Harvey Dent?"

"I haven't the least idea where Mr. Dent has gone and you don't need to know my sister's name," I replied flatly. The Joker licked his lips before he leaned over me, his nose nearly touching mine.

"That's not the pretty face I'm interested in, sweetheart."

"You'll just have to settle for mine," a low voice ground out before knocking the Joker back several feet. Batman moved almost too fast to track. He was a blur of black and accompanied by the sounds of fists knocking into flesh. Erin was shaking beneath my hand. Or maybe that was me. If Batman hadn't chosen that moment to save our asses, I honestly don't know what I would have done.

"Come on," I urged my sister, dragging her to the elevator and repeatedly hitting the button for the ground floor. I didn't let go of her until the doors slid shut. Laughter filled my head and I let out a choked sob.

"Sybil, what's wrong?" Erin was hugging me but I could still hear him. Whatever the Joker was drew in my powers. My sensitivity left me vulnerable to his nature but… there was more. I was physically drawn to him. I wanted to throw myself at the elevator doors and claw my way back up to the top floor. I wanted to touch him. But I didn't know why.

"There's something wrong with me," I whispered, pressing my forehead against her shoulder.

"But we're okay. I mean, we're safe. He didn't kill us," Erin tried to comfort me. I let out a weak laugh.

"Whatever doesn't kill you simply makes you stranger."


	3. Beginnings

Beginnings

"Why are you still up, Sybil?" I glanced away from the books I'd spread across my coffee table to my sister's tired face. If Erin looked haggard, I could only guess how bad the shadows under my eyes were. After the Joker had crashed Wayne's party, she hadn't wanted to go back to our family's mansion. Instead she came home with me to my very average apartment. Kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom, the basics. Once I was sure Erin was tucked in my bed and dead to the world, I'd raided my books for some clue about what had happened to me.

I mentioned that I was a bookworm but I hadn't really described the depths of my obsession. I have bookshelves decorating my walls, not paintings. I can't even remember what color my walls are. Admittedly not all of the shelves are full but that probably won't be true for long. I have a serious problem. If I walk into a bookstore, I walk out of it with books. My only excuse is that I write reviews for them. I don't need the money but I want the job. It provides me with some sense of purpose besides looking out for Erin. Besides, you might as well make your obsession something you can be paid for doing.

"I'm reading," I replied. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Nightmares." I didn't ask about the details. I was pretty sure I already knew it involved clowns. She'd talk if she wanted to talk. Clearly Erin had no desire to share since she immediately changed the subject. "What are you reading about?"

"Anything that might help me figure out why being in the same building as the Joker screwed with my head." I flipped the book detailing the complexities of psychic sensitivities combined with past lives shut and rested my head in my hands. "I have a list of possibilities but no solid answer." Erin picked up the book I'd closed and sat down on the couch next to me.

"What's the most likely solution?" I leaned back against the cushions and closed my eyes.

"The thing that makes the most sense to me in my current exhausted, shell-shocked state is that we knew each other before this life and we had a pretty powerful connection. So take a strong sense of déjà vu, add a mostly untrained psychic gift and you've got yourself a very shaken Sybil." Erin laughed weakly at my bad joke.

"Past lives. That's so bizarre."

"It's just my luck, too. I might have a soul mate and he's a sociopath," I mumbled, taking off my reading glasses and pinching the bridge of my nose. There was a serious headache brewing up in my skull. I'd spent too much time staring at small print. "We need sleep."

"I'd rather not," she murmured, looking away from me. I took the book out of her hands and set it on the table. Erin looked younger than usual now that she was curled up on my couch, wearing one of my oversized shirts that were best for sleeping. In my eyes it was if her five year old self was sitting beside me.

"Come over here," I told her, putting a pillow on my lap as I did so.

"Sybil, I'm not a baby anymore. I don't need you to sing to me when I have a bad dream," she pointed out. Of course, I'd been reading my sister since before she could form sentences. I knew she was afraid.

"Adults like to be comforted, too, Erin," I reminded her reasonably. She still had a stubborn look on her face so I put my glasses back on and glared at her over the rims. It was my scary librarian stare and it worked every time.

"Okay, you win! Jeez, I wish you'd get some stylish glasses instead of those pointed black ones," she muttered as she put her head on my lap.

"They appeal to my twisted sense of humor," I replied, tugging the quilt I had draped over the back of the couch over my sister's body.

"I'll listen to one song but then I'm toughing it out on my own."

"Then I'd better make it good." Thankfully I already knew just the one that would send her into sweet oblivion. I cleared my throat. Honestly, it had been years since I'd sung Erin to sleep. Aside from belting out the lyrics to various Abba songs in my shower, I hadn't done any singing since I was a teenager. For all I knew I'd lost the ability to make Erin sleep. "There's something about a man in black, makes me want to buy a Cadillac, throw the top back and roll down to Jackson town."

"Oh, that's cheating," she accused. I was exploiting her weakness for sappy country songs but I felt no shame.

"I want a love like Johnny and June, rings of fire burning with you. I want to walk the line, walk the line 'til the end of time." I had past lives on the brain so that's probably what led me to a closer examination of my voice. It was soft and low. Well, it was soft and low because my voice tended to crack if I pushed. Either way, I could have been one of those sexy singers in a slinky dress embracing the microphone with a mesmerizing, smoky voice.

Maybe that's how I met the Joker the first time.

The thought shook me awake and I realized I'd dozed off shortly after I'd finished singing. I groaned softly. My neck was going to have a kink in it if I'd been asleep too long. Erin's hair was beneath my left hand so I used my right to take my glasses off without waking her up.

"Well, look at that. Sleeping beauty's awake." With my glasses on he was just a blur of dark purple and white paint. Now that they were off I could make sense of what I was seeing. And I prepared to scream. He must have expected that reaction since the Joker slid his hand over my mouth. "Shh shh shh. You don't want to wake up the princess of Gotham, do you?" My stomach clenched as his gaze fell to Erin. "We're going to play a little game. If little sister is a sound sleeper, she'll get to wake up in the morning. If she isn't…" He held a knife up to my face and grinned. "Ready to play?"


	4. Fun and Games

Fun and Games

_Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!_

It was ridiculous and clichéd but that was the first coherent thought that made it through my head after the Joker asked me if I was ready to play a game for my sister's life. At the same time I was thanking God that I was touching Erin because otherwise my powers would draw me toward him like a plant to sunlight. The Joker wore gloves and a long jacket so the chances of making skin contact were pretty slim. Tiny blessings, all in all, but I was going to take what I could get.

I nodded my agreement and he removed his hand from my mouth. The Joker gave me a pleased grin before pushing several books off my coffee table so he could take a seat. The sound my hardcover books made against the wood floor caused Erin to groan softly and curl up tighter. I sent him a sharp glare.

"You're trying to wake her up," I whispered harshly. He gave me an innocent look that he really couldn't pull off with that unbalanced glee in his eyes.

"Now, why would I want to kill the mayor's cute little niece?" He must have noticed the panic in my eyes because his grin widened. "Yes, I already knew about Princess Erin. She's very popular, especially among the people I know. They'd love to get their hands on her fragile skin." My glasses gave an ominous creak, drawing my attention to the fact that my right hand had been gradually tightening on them as the Joker spoke. "Funny how no one ever mentioned you."

"I'm less interesting," I murmured flatly, unsure as to where he was going with this. He knew about my sister's reputation. She went to glamorous parties, sure, but there was an innocence and a beauty in her eyes that made the press gush about how she represented hope for the future of Gotham. I wasn't lying when I said I was less interesting. No one wants to read about the older, less beautiful sister who curls up in her apartment and reads if she hasn't been dragged to a party. Apparently the Joker doesn't share this opinion since he vigorously shook his head at my statement.

"No, no, no. We both know that's not true. A woman who shoves a stiletto heel into a man's eye is vastly more interesting than one who looks pretty at fundraisers. No, I think the problem is that you're a little _too _interesting." He looked at me a little too intensely then and I was shaken by how close to the truth he'd come. I couldn't dismiss him. I couldn't even come up with an excuse.

"I hope I didn't cause too much damage," I replied softly. The Joker rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Oh, don't ruin it." Then in an abrupt shift of mood he snapped his fingers. "That reminds me, though. I brought you a present." He reached into his pocket and I braced myself for the worst. To say the sight of my abandoned shoe dangling from his fingers surprised me is an understatement. Then I noticed how much gore had collected on the heel as a result of being stuck in a man's eye and I had to fight my gag reflex.

"Um, thanks." Did I even want to know what happened to the other shoe? I set aside my glasses and hesitantly reached for my shoe. Once I had it back I just set it on the arm of the sofa, heel up. I was mentally setting it on fire when I decided to ask the Joker a question. "How did you find us?"

"You're in the phonebook. Little Erin's sibling _Sybil_." I hated that he knew my name. It would have been easy to get since he'd been in a room full of people who knew my sister and thus were familiar with my existence. The way he said it was what disturbed me more than his knowing. His lips drew back, revealing yellow teeth, then pursed as he finished pronouncing the word.

"Why are you after my sister?" He giggled.

"Your dedication is amazing. There really is nothing else that exists for you. The princess here is your reason for breathing. You're a little like the Batman but on a much smaller scale. Instead of diligently protecting Gotham you guard one of its brightest lights. The thought that I might be more interested in you is simply inconceivable, isn't it?" I blinked and suddenly he had my face in his hands. The Joker towered over me, his compelling eyes keeping my attention fixed on him. "Now, where did you get that scar?" I was stunned. People rarely noticed the thin scar running from the end of my right eyebrow down to the beginning of my ear. It was old and barely noticeable.

"Car crash," I replied, not bothering to elaborate. He ran a gloved fingertip over its length.

"Not a very interesting story, doll. You should try something else. Stretch your creativity." I narrowed my eyes at his upbeat tone.

"If it helps, my parents died in that crash. Does that make it slightly more interesting?" I asked him with heavy sarcasm. His eyes lit up as if I'd just given him an unexpected gift.

"So that's the story behind your dragon guarding the princess routine. You're trying to protect her from the pain you knew when mommy and daddy died." I slapped him and the crack it made was louder than I'd intended. Not to mention that the brief skin contact sent a jolt of awareness through my body reminding me exactly how dangerous it would be if I lost control with this man. Thankfully Erin didn't stir and my head remained fairly clear. There was silence for a long second after I'd smacked him then a soft giggle leaked out of the Joker's mouth.

"You are _feisty_, aren't you? I like that in a woman."

"Enough! Why the hell are you in my apartment?" I hissed at him. I really wanted to yell but then I would lose the game and my sister.

"Would you like to know how I got my scars?" The slim blade he'd threatened me with before had seemingly flown back into his hand. I stiffened as he pressed the flat of the knife against my cheek.

"I really don't care," I replied softly. That wasn't completely true, though. There was a part of me that was curious about how the Joker had come to be what he was. Still, I didn't want to play any more games with him. I wanted to know why he'd come after me.

"When I was a kid," he began, blatantly ignoring me, "I had this friend. She was a little thing with pretty blue eyes and soft brown hair." The Joker slid his free hand deep into my hair and tangled his fingers in the strands as he spoke. This alarmed me for two reasons. The first was that if I tried to get free, it wasn't going to be easy with his fingers knotted in my hair. The second was that his gloves weren't nearly long enough to keep me out of danger in this situation. The exposed skin of his wrist was frighteningly close to my cheek. If it touched me for just a few seconds, I couldn't predict what would happen. All I knew was that it wouldn't be good. "No one could see her but me." That statement caught my attention. He'd had an imaginary friend. An imaginary friend with blue eyes and brown hair. A friend… who fit my basic profile. Oh, crap. "Now, my home life wasn't exactly ideal so I wasn't in the habit of smiling. That depressed my girl. She never complained, no, but I could tell when something bothered her. See, she'd try too hard to make me laugh. It got to the point where even she was smiling less. I couldn't be responsible for that."

"So you did it to yourself," I murmured. He tilted his head slightly.

"It's not nice to interrupt someone when they're telling a story, sweetheart." The Joker tugged my hair, jerking my head back sharply and pressing his skin against mine. "You want to know the ironic part, serious Sybil? After I was stitched up I never saw her again. Never… until you half-blinded my thug with your shoe. You look a lot like my girl all grown up. Wonder why that is." I didn't respond. I barely even breathed. I was concentrating all my energy on not pushing Erin onto the ground and throwing myself into the Joker's arms. I was fighting my own power, something I'd never had to do before this. And it didn't feel good. Everything in me was drawn to the Joker while I was trying to force my power to focus on Erin. I needed her to be what I was feeling and thinking. The Joker was sinking into my head along with some very distressing information.

He wanted to play with me. Playtime with the Joker meant only bad things for my mental and physical health. _Come on, Sybil, focus on your sister. This shouldn't be hard. He's a stranger, you have no connection, forget this strangeness!_

_Oh, please. You're practically shaking in your peach camisole and lounge pants and you think you can fight this? Give it up. _Since that mental voice was less helpful I chose to ignore it and concentrate harder on my sister. Stupid mistake.

"Sybie?" she mumbled, waking to my presence in her head. The Joker turned in her direction. That will probably be the only time I'll ever want to be threatened with a knife since once it wasn't pointed at me, it was going in Erin's direction. I kicked him as hard as I could and it gave me a few feet of space. I knew there was no way I could fight the Joker off. He was stronger, faster and far better trained. The only thing I could do to save my sister was to win the game. The second he was away from me I slid out from under her head so I could press my forehead to hers and bring my hands to her temples. _Go back to sleep. Please, go back to sleep. I love you, Erin. Please sleep._ Sleep was already clouding her brain so I manipulated it, amplified it. I just wished I had more control.

"Now, now, _Sybie_, I told you the rules of the game," the Joker said as he dragged me off my sister. My body felt like dead weight. Exhaustion overtook me and nothing kept me from collapsing on the hard floor. My vision had blurred but I could still make out the Joker standing over my sister and looking… puzzled.

"I win." He kneeled over me and I was thankful that I was too exhausted for his compelling presence to effect me anymore.

"You cheated, my girl. How did you manage that?" My head was spinning. I couldn't even manage to flinch when he touched my face, caressing my scar again.

"Not… not your girl," I whispered. I couldn't keep my eyelids up anymore. They closed and in less than a second the only things I could sense were the Joker's touch and his hot breath on my face.

"We'll see," he replied, followed by a high-pitched giggle.

I blacked out.


	5. Assistance

Assistance 

My head felt like it was going to explode. I rolled over and groaned as the knotted muscles in my back throbbed. It felt as if I'd slept on hard wood. Why would I do that? And why did my head hurt so much? I opened my eyes slowly, wincing at the light bleeding through the windows. It took me a minute to process the fact that I was curled up on my living room floor. I started to pull myself up when I realized there was something clutched in my right hand.

A joker card stared up at me. I let out a small shriek, pitching it across the room as fast as I could and scuttling back until I hit the couch. This woke Erin who then proceeded to fall off the couch and hit the floor with a loud bang. All in all, it wasn't a great start to the day. My outlook on it worsened as I noticed what had been smeared across the palm of my hand. Red paint. The Joker had put his mouth on my hand.

"Oh, _God_."

"Sybil?" Erin asked as she used the coffee table to pull her body into a sitting position. Her eyes were surprisingly clear for someone who'd only just woken up but colliding with the floor probably explained that. "Are you okay?"

"No," I replied. "No, I'm really not." My head was throbbing, the light hurt my eyes and I was starting to feel seriously nauseous. I'd woken up with a freaking migraine, probably because I'd tried to do too much with my gift without proper training. Since Erin was alive I considered the migraine worth it. I just didn't like the idea of being unconscious at the Joker's feet. This led me to staring at the paint on my hand, which got me thinking about the other places he could have put his mouth and that… That didn't help the nauseous feeling. "The Joker was here."

"What?" I put my head between my knees and breathed deeply. Erin could use her eyes and figure out what had happened while I tried to collect myself. I had every faith in her observational skills. "The Joker was here last night?" Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her moving toward where I'd cast the Joker's card.

"Don't touch it. Might be useful to the police," I mumbled.

"The police… The police! I should call the police." The sound of her feet slapping against the wood as she ran for the phone made me wince. I needed pain killers, a dark room and a heating pad wrapped around my head to even begin to take the edge off this ache. Instead I was going to go down to the police station and be extensively questioned on the events of last night. I couldn't even be completely honest without exposing my secret. That meant I would have to somehow lie creatively while my head pounded.

Mornings _suck_.

I was extremely impressed by how well Erin handled herself after she called the police. She got dressed and fished out a bathrobe and Advil for me. Too much moving made the rest of my body want to cut my head off and see if it could go it alone. The Advil didn't help much but I liked to think it dulled the pain a bit even if I was just fooling myself. I was wrapped securely in my robe, left arm over my eyes to block the light and right hand extended and flat. It had occurred to me that having a sample of the Joker's make-up might actually help the Gotham Police Department with the investigation. Since he'd broken into my apartment and threatened my sister's life, I was more than willing to help lock him up in some dark place where I'd never have to see him again.

The cops arrived within ten minutes of Erin's call. My cynical self snidely commented that they would have taken more time if we weren't related to the mayor. I always got bitchy when I was upset but I tried to keep it in my head. Unfortunately my head was already suffering from too much pressure so a few of the rude comments were probably going to escape. The first one I wanted to say out loud was 'did they specially order shoes that sound like individual avalanches when they walked across a wooden floor?'.

"Erin," I mumbled, a little unsure of whether she would hear me or not over the sound of the officers doing whatever it was our tax dollars paid them to do.

"Sybie, what is it?" I winced. _Sybie_. The Joker had called me that after he'd heard Erin say it and now an affectionate childhood nickname was ruined. Instead of associating that name with cleaning Erin's scraped knees and checking for monsters under the bed I could only see a scarred face and gloved hands locked in my hair.

"My head is going to explode. I need to get to my room." It felt a little unnatural, depending on Erin to help me. But this thing pounding in my head was unrelenting and I needed her. Sadly, a certain lieutenant needed me.

"Miss Callaghan, I need to ask you a few questions." The voice was pleasant enough but I didn't want to open my eyes to look. I just leaned against Erin as she led me toward my room.

"She has a crippling migraine right now. Can't it wait?" I nearly opened my eyes then. That gently chastising tone had never come out of Erin's mouth before. Where had she learned that? Wait, I knew where she'd learned it. She'd gotten it from me but… when?

"I wish it could but the sooner we catch this guy the better," he replied. I smiled at the apologetic yet firm tone. This was a guy worth meeting. I straightened up and finally dared to crack my eyes open. He was my height, maybe a few centimeters taller. His light brown hair was cut short and I could make out a pair of smoky blue eyes behind his square brown glasses. His mustache was neatly trimmed and he gave off a general air of warm kindness. Well, as warm as a figure of authority could be. I liked him immediately.

"Call me Sybil. 'Miss Callaghan' makes me feel like a schoolteacher," I informed him casually. He seemed relieved when he offered me his hand. It was probably easier to conduct an investigation when the witness cooperated.

"Jim Gordon."

"Oh, right, you're the lieutenant I heard about on the news," I realized, feeling stupid. I held my right hand out, palm up. "I'd shake your hand but I don't want to contaminate what the Joker left behind any more than I have already." Lieutenant Gordon gently took my wrist and leaned over my hand to get a better look. Erin squeezed my arm to draw my attention.

"Is… is that stuff from his mouth?" I could easily read the disgust on her face and I sympathized. That's how I reacted when I saw it, too. Of course, whether or not I would have reacted that way if the Joker had been near me was up for debate. I lost my head when he was around.

"Yes," I replied before turning my attention back to Gordon. "Look, my head is causing me extreme pain here. Could we do this somewhere quieter?"

"Of course," he agreed and I saw empathy on his face. Apparently the good lieutenant had had a few migraines in his life. It was nice to be around someone who could relate.

My room isn't special. There are more bookshelves, a queen sized bed with a set of dark green sheets and comforter, and the door to my closet. Plain or not, I immediately appreciated its existence when the door closed and the noises from the other room were muted. Gordon had brought in a member of his team to scrape the make-up off my hand and bag it or whatever the correct term might be. I don't watch CSI or anything else along those lines so I honestly have no clue about how the police go about investigating things. I just guess.

Anyway, while my hand was being purged of Joker essence Gordon began asking questions. The first few sounded fairly standard. What was the time, what were you doing, etcetera. After we got that out of the way, he began to get much more specific.

"Did the Joker tell you why he was there?"

"He was interested in me," I replied. Saying it out loud made me feel ridiculous. In the world I lived in all the attention went to my sister. The Joker was interested in me when it was my sister that should have caught his fancy. I think it surprised Erin too since her eyes widened and she was uncharacteristically silent. "Last night at Bruce Wayne's party I half-blinded one of the Joker's thugs with my shoe. He returned my shoe when he visited last night."

"You blinded him with your shoe?"

"Stiletto heel," I explained and Gordon winced. "He wanted to play a game with me. If Erin woke up while he was there, then he'd kill her."

"What happened then?"

"We talked. I think he was trying to get inside my head because he kept speculating on my relationship with my sister. He said I was like a dragon guarding a princess. He called Erin a princess multiple times and… and he mentioned the fact that some of the people he worked with would be interested in getting their hands on her." I wasn't thrilled about talking about that in front of Erin. She'd already gotten pale and shaky. I had protected her since she was a baby. I had worked very hard to make her feel safe in a city where the idea of safety was laughable.

"Did he want to know anything about you?" Gordon asked. I blinked. First the Joker, now Lieutenant Gordon. When had the world begun to revolve around me?

"He asked about my scar. I told him I got it in the car wreck that killed my parents. It amused him. Then he told me about how he got his scars but I'm skeptical about whether it's true or not."

"Why?"

"Because I doubt he even remembers how he got them," I replied quietly. I had a choice to make now. Either I trusted Jim Gordon with the truth and hoped he wouldn't share it with the rest of the world, or I made up a convincing excuse. Well, I did have a way of finding out if he was trustworthy… It was a bit violating, though, and I hated doing it. Gordon had been nothing but nice to me. Still, he was a cop. He had to be tough to do the job he did. "Lieutenant Gordon," I murmured, raising my eyes to meet his. This was going to make my slowly fading migraine worse but I was a big girl. I could take a little pain. "Can you keep a secret?"

Then I looked into those smoky blue eyes and I saw him. Lieutenant James 'Jim' Gordon filled me up with memory and emotion. He was a good man. Honest, hard working and genuinely good. Gordon didn't do the things he did for personal glory. He did them because they were right. This was the kind of man you wanted on your side, backing you up through thick and thin. I could trust him with my life and, more importantly, my sister's life.

And, for a brief second, I let him see me.

"What in the hell," he gasped, jerking backwards a few steps. I collapsed on the bed and pressed a hand to my throbbing skull. "Who are you?" Erin reached out to help me but I waved her away. I met his eyes again but only as an exhausted woman, nothing more.

"I'm Erin's sister," I replied simply. "But now I think you know I'm a little bit more. My problem is that that 'little bit more' is inexplicably drawn to the Joker and something in him is likewise drawn to me. I don't want my sister to get caught between the two of us. We need help."

"How?" He'd calmed down significantly. It probably helped that I looked fairly pathetic and unthreatening.

"Security for Erin and keeping me in the loop. Any time I'm near the Joker I get pulled into his head. I have no problem providing you with information but I'd like some in return. Just let me know his movements."

"I can probably do that for you. As for security, that was going to be done anyway," Gordon informed me. He paused a moment before asking me what he'd wanted to while I'd been jabbering away about what we needed from him. "When you were in my head… What did you see?" I gave him a weak smile.

"I don't know your life story. I'm not, well, very good at what I do. I can't exactly describe what I am or how I do the things I do. I see things I can't make sense of and I feel… Look, Lieutenant, I don't know what I do. I just _do _things." That was as honest as I've ever been with someone about my gifts. I didn't know whether I'd regret it or not. Gordon sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Okay, I'm going to need you to explain all of this to me from the beginning." I straightened up and performed a very sloppy salute.

"I'll do my best."


	6. Silent Night

Author's Note: I found out recently that the mayor's last name is actually Garcia so I'm going to do a wee bit of editing. I'd also like to thank everyone very much for their support. I hope I continue to please.

Silent Night

There comes a time when a person needs to be alone, no matter how dedicated they are to their family. Of course, the only member of my family I actually care about is my sister but today I'd had to deal with my uncle and his trophy wife. Blondezilla and I didn't like being in the same room with each other. We'd spent too many of my formative years fighting and I couldn't see any of her good qualities. If she even had good qualities.

Anyway, Gordon hadn't been able to hang around after he'd taken my statement. He did have several murders on his hands, after all. I wasn't entirely comfortable knowing he'd seen into me. I mean, it was only fair since I'd looked into him but he hadn't mentioned what he saw. He hadn't run screaming from the room so that had to be a good sign. I'll admit I was curious. Who was I? Erin's sister, Sybil, had always been the answer. Maybe some small part of me wondered if I was something more.

After the police finished with me I packed a bag and came home with Erin. I use the term 'home' loosely. I don't really think of the mansion on the outskirts of Gotham as home. It was very large with dramatic Roman pillars and wide windows. Wayne Manor had been larger and probably would be again once it was rebuilt. Still, the mayor's house wasn't too shabby. It just wasn't my style. I don't want to walk around on tiptoes in my home, fearing the destruction of priceless antiques.

There was one thing I enjoyed about coming home. Uncle Anthony and Susan the Super Wife had a pool in the backyard. I'm understating it. If you want to get a good idea of what this pool is like then picture the Neptune Pool at Hearst Castle. Admittedly ours isn't quite as big but the design is very similar. Susan swims to keep herself in shape. That is the single thing my aunt and I have in common. I love to swim although I haven't done it as much since I moved out. My apartment didn't come with a pool.

Settling back into my old room had felt strange, especially since no one had bothered to change it. My old Abba poster was still on the wall, though God only knows why. I suspect Anthony thinks I might finally conform one day and so he's holding out hope. Who knew a politician could be optimistic? I exchanged a few polite words with my former legal guardians then checked out the security arrangements. A few men from Gordon's unit had been added to the mayor's normal security. Erin wasn't allowed to travel anywhere without them. Technically I wasn't, either, but it didn't really matter. With the Joker on the loose, I wasn't about to let Erin out of my sight.

I was only breaking that rule now because we were on securely guarded property and she was tucked away safely in the house. Plus, I really need alone time. It had been way too many hours since I'd enjoyed some solitude. So once the sun had gone down I'd changed into a black one-piece suit, braided my hair and spent some quality time in the pool. It was a beautiful, clear night. I floated on my back, staring at the crescent moon and simply letting my thoughts wander.

The water gently lapping at my body reminded me of the way the Joker had touched my scar. I closed my eyes and plunged beneath the surface, fleeing any thought of him. Unfortunately it couldn't be that easy. As soon as I started thinking of him I couldn't stop.

I had been his imaginary friend as a child. Children were new to the world and they often had memories of the life they'd last lived. It was possible that he'd remembered me from his past life. It was possible that he was drawn to me but without the intensity I suffered thanks to my gifts. Hell, a lot of things were possible. I broke the surface with a gasp and wiped the water out of my eyes. If I couldn't relax and enjoy my alone time then I decided to do something constructive. A few laps across the pool ought to suffice.

I hadn't even started my first lap when I felt goose bumps rise up along my skin. Then I heard laughter. Familiar, unsettling laughter that was only in my head. "Crap," I whispered, hauling myself out of the pool and making a quick run for my towel. The Joker was nearby. I didn't know how or why but I was certain he was near me. Wait, what if the mob had people inside of Gordon's unit? If the Joker wanted to know where I was, all he'd have to do is ask. I wrapped the towel around my body, shivering a little as the cold air hit my wet skin. A list of necessary actions was running through my head. I had to get to my sister, I had to alert security, I had to call Gordon, and I had… had to…

My thoughts trailed off as warm pressure filled my head and body, pulling me backward a few steps until I hit what felt like a clothed wall. I breathed in the scent of gasoline and sweat. For a few distressing moments I forgot how to move. The Joker took that opportunity to wrap his arms around my waist and set his chin on my damp shoulder.

"Miss me, Sybie?" As his skin touched mine I had no protection. There was no distance, no sister and no control. Very suddenly my head cleared and whatever had been dragging me toward the Joker simply relaxed. I relaxed. A weight had literally left me and it felt as if I could breathe easily again.

Then I felt his thoughts. I could taste death in my mouth and I knew he'd killed people tonight. He was a murderer. What was worse, I could only relax and unwind when I was in the arms of a _serial killer_. So I did the only thing that made sense. I fought against myself by fighting against him.

"Get off me!" I bit out through gritted teeth as I struggled to break away from him. Unfortunately he was bigger, stronger and not easily shaken off. The Joker giggled in my ear as I tried to fight his grip.

"Now, now, serious Sybil, we were having a good time. Why get all fidgety now? Conscience bothering you?"

"Shock wore off," I snapped.

"Ooh, convenient excuse. Now stop wiggling, I have another questions. Well, more of a riddle than a question." He avoided my balled fist by moving to press his mouth against the nape of my neck. "If a dragon is all alone with no princess to guard is she still as feisty?" Out of options, I picked up my feet and threw all my weight against him. It threw him off balance and he hit the tile hard, knocking the breath out of him. I scrambled away from the Joker as fast as I could. Almost the second I lost skin contact I felt my subconscious needling at me, desperate for more time near his surprisingly warm body.

Once he got his breath back he began to laugh again. I had to wonder if there was anything that could bring down this purple-wearing bastard's mood. "Just as spirited as before," he noted, slowly pulling himself off the ground. "That's one riddle solved. Now I just have to figure out if a tree falling in a forest still makes a sound if no one's around to hear it."

"Fine. Terrific. Why don't you go figure that out and leave me alone?" To my great concern I'd found that when I tried to back more than a few feet away I couldn't. Damn past life baggage. I wish the me that had lived before had considered that whoever the hell the Joker had been might not be in the same in his next life and that whatever screwed up spiritual binding she'd done wasn't the brightest idea. The only upside to this was that I was beginning to piece together the nature of our connection. Once I was touching him my head cleared and I could think. That was a positive but also a real serious negative. I wouldn't have to worry about what I would do when I touched him. I just had to worry about what part of me he would slice up first.

"Sybie, sweetheart, why so tense? After the day you had, I thought you might like to see a friendly face." He licked his lips, a move I realized was habit for him.

"Your face isn't one I consider friendly," I replied then felt my spine stiffen as the full meaning of his sentence finally sank in. "How do you know about my day?" A smirk twisted his scarred lips.

"You're smart, beautiful. Piece it together yourself." He flopped down on a nearby white-cushioned lounge chair and stretched out. It occurred to me that this man would keep my eyes narrowed in disbelief for however long he decided to linger and the line between my eyes might never go away. "I have a few more questions before you run off and alert your top-notch security team."

"You haven't managed to answer any of my questions directly. Why would I answer any of yours?" The mood changed abruptly. I could feel the shift of it prickle against my skin and the Joker confirmed it when he pulled a slim knife from his pocket. I'd pushed a little too hard. Damn me and my need to test boundaries. If I could put more than just a few feet between us then I wouldn't worry. I'm a sprinter. Short bursts of speed followed by a crippling need for oxygen. Too bad escape wasn't an option. I'd have to aim for peace-making instead. "What did you want to know?" He clicked his tongue against his teeth, giving me a view of his sad, disappointed eyes.

"One look at a sharp object and you crack. That's not like you, sweetheart. I hadn't even touched you yet." I glanced away. Touching. Now there was a boundary I didn't want to test with him. I wasn't entirely sure that the calm I found in his arms was all I'd ever feel there. For all I knew the fact that make-up had been covering the skin that had touched me somehow dampened the effect.

The Joker was good at reading people and he saw exactly what I was trying to conceal. His eyes lit up at the realization. "So that's it. You don't want me touching you."

"I'd bet there are very few people that want you to touch them," I replied dryly in an effort to lighten the mood. The Joker sat up, long legs straddling the lounge chair as he pocketed his knife and began to tug off his gloves. "What are you doing?" I asked, trying to fight down the instinct to panic.

"We'll get to that. In the meantime, why don't you tell me how you made little sister fall asleep last night?" I swallowed hard. There was no way in hell I was telling him the truth. He was already bizarrely interested in me. I didn't want him thinking he'd found a new toy.

"She had a nightmare so I sang to her. It's what I did when we were growing up," I replied. He shrugged out of his long purple coat and began to roll the sleeves up on his lavender shirt. Some twisted, sick part of me purred its approval in my head. Without the coat making him seem sickly and slumped, I could see the lean muscles in his arms. I realized that the Joker could actually be considered attractive. This was a bad thought to have, especially when he stood up and began to stalk toward me.

"Sweet Sybie," he purred. "Come here for a minute, will you?" The towel slid through my suddenly numb fingers. I was struck, mesmerized by the way his hands flexed in the open air. I love hands, although I'll never understand why, and the Joker had a beautiful set. They were pale and big, his fingers long. Those were the kind of hands a woman wanted on her skin. And they were reaching for me.

_Hey there, Sybil. This is your sanity. I just thought I'd check in and tell you to stop freaking staring at him and RUN. _

I let out a startled gasp as my sanity finally checked back in and I tried to back out of the Joker's reach. He was faster. Gripping my face in his hands, he jerked me toward him. I pushed against his chest, which was a little like pushing a brick wall, and I tried to twist my head away. "Tell me how you cheated at our little game, sweetheart," he hissed out, tilting my chin up so I had to look him in the eye. "And why you just can't seem to run away." His hands are warm and I can feel my gift unfurling, drawing me closer. Instead of pushing I found that my hands had curled around his forest green vest.

"She was already mostly asleep. I just gave her a small push in the right direction," I confessed. To my great dismay I found I couldn't lie to him. Not when he was touching me. "And I don't know why I can't run away. Not exactly." As I stared at him I began to see things. Brief flashes of explosions, blood and, as always, there was laughter. I started to get whispers of his thoughts and memories. I was unintentionally seeinginto him. "Let go of me," I pleaded. I so did not want to see into this guy's head. He arched a brow at me.

"There's a little more to you than the average woman, serious Sybil." He'd been thinking about me all day. That wasn't his style. He didn't think about women as much as he'd thought about me. I shut my eyes tightly, blocking out his thoughts as best as I could. "Oh, now, don't do that. I have one more question for you. For now, anyway. An odd question for an odd woman."

"No," I told him and the hands that were itching to unbutton his shirt. With very little success I continued to try breaking out of his grip.

"I want to know what you are." He moved his hand into my braided hair, tugging sharply at the roots. "Look at me, Sybil. _Look at me!_" I let out an embarrassing whimper at the sudden roar of his voice. My eyes open into thin slits and I focused on anything but his eyes. Still, it appeased his sporadic temper. "What are you, Sybil?"

"Freak," I muttered. His fingers tightened in my hair.

"Sticks and stones, beautiful." There was no point to resisting now. Might as well put all my cards on the table. I opened my eyes completely and met his gaze.

"Who said I was talking about you?"

The top-notch security the Joker had mentioned finally began to notice something had gone horribly awry and we could hear them as they scuttled like frantic ants. My assailant let out a quick giggle.

"I'll be seeing you later, my girl." Then he picked me up and tossed me into the deep end of the pool. Before that happened, though, there was a very long, dangerous second when the Joker and I saw each other. I knew I would have nightmares for weeks but he… He got a very solid grasp on me, on who I was. On what I was.

Amazing the damage a second can do.

I surfaced, gasping for air and trying to clear my eyes so I could see where he'd gone. His coat had vanished and there was no Joker to be found in my line of sight.

And he'd called me his girl. Again.

Oh, crap, I was in deep trouble. Where was a handsome lieutenant when you needed him? I groaned and sank back down into the water, letting out a silent scream.

_Help!_


	7. Flashback

Flashback

I sat next to my sister on the platform that had been erected in the late Commissioner Loeb's honor. Mayor Garcia stood up in front of the crowd and began to talk about the man he hadn't really known well at all. Honestly, I wasn't really paying attention to whatever my uncle was saying about him. I was thinking about all the possible places my uncle's assassin could hide. There were rooftops and hundreds of windows. The crowd would be the perfect place, in my opinion. There were a lot of people here and it wouldn't be hard to blend in until it was time to pull the trigger.

Here's another confession. I didn't care if my uncle got shot or not. I wasn't worrying about him. I was worried about my sister and the possibility that she might get caught in the crossfire. Dear Uncle Tony had denied my plan to keep his family out of the line of fire. We had to present a united front. Pfft. I almost hoped the Joker got a bullet in him. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. That last thought had been cold. It wasn't just his fault that this idiotic ceremony was taking place. The conversation I'd shared with Jim Gordon earlier on this gloomy day came back to me.

--

I was asleep on my feet, leaning against a convenient wall as police officers scurried around my family's lavishly decorated entrance hall. They were in the midst of deciding how best to protect the mayor from the Joker while I was unintentionally catching up on the sleep I had missed out on last night. It seemed that any time I closed my eyes the Joker's twisted thoughts came back to me. For example, just then I was having visions of what it was like to slide a knife under a man's ribcage until it was piercing the heart. Blood covered my hands, making them warm and slick. It was the Joker's memory but it felt like mine. It felt like I was the one gleefully cutting into a fellow human's body.

"Sybil?" I jerked awake, nearly falling over as I lurched violently away from the wall. Warm hands gripped my shoulders to steady me. I blinked several times until the calm gray-blue of Jim Gordon's eyes came into focus.

"Lieutenant," I said, letting out a relieved sigh. "Sorry, I must have dozed off."

"That's pretty understandable," Gordon replied with a smile. "Something tells me you didn't sleep last night." I smiled wryly. I'd given the good lieutenant a call once the Joker had left. He was the only one who knew exactly how much trouble I was in since I hadn't shared my little encounter with Erin. It was refreshing to have someone who understood what I was that I could trust and not worry about on a constant basis.

"Can't imagine what gave you that idea," I muttered, tucking a stray bit of hair behind my ear. I was appropriately dressed in a black blouse and slacks. I'd narrowly avoided my sister and her constant need to cover my face in make-up. I used to be fairly ambivalent toward it but recently make-up has become extremely distasteful. No prizes for guessing the reason. "Look, Lieutenant-"

"You've seen into my soul, Sybil. I think you can call me Jim." There was no arguing with that friendly, firm tone.

"Fine, Jim. I haven't been able to talk any sense into my uncle so I thought I'd try you. This ceremony in honor of Commissioner Loeb's passing is nice but the timing couldn't be worse. Wouldn't it be better to just let the family bury him then once the Joker is caught we could do this whole marching down the street and presenting a clear target thing." Jim ran his fingers through his short hair, appearing a little awkward. I had a feeling that he agreed with me since he was in charge of making sure the mayor didn't get killed.

"We can't let the Joker stop us from carrying on with life as we usually do. That means he wins," he told me. He was being very polite so I fought the immediate urge to roll my eyes.

"He hates rules and ritual and anything considered to be normal. He goes against the grain because it's in his nature. The Joker is a rebel. Admittedly, he takes it to an extreme but that's still what he is. Our predictability is our weakness with this man. I know how he thinks," I pointed out. "Obviously I'm not thrilled that I know but since I do we might as well take advantage of it."

--

Damn stubborn men. I shifted in my seat again and my aunt sent me a glare. I glared right back until she cracked, looking away. Jim hadn't been able to put a halt to this ridiculous ceremony. We were like fish in a barrel waiting for the Joker to start shooting at us.

"We must remember that vigilance is the price of safety," my uncle said, finishing his speech at long last. I scanned the crowd again as the officers shifted into position for the twenty-one-gun salute. Or maybe it wasn't going to be twenty-one. How many shots did a police commissioner warrant? In any case, my main concern was why nothing had happened. There was no way in hell the Joker would pass up this opportunity.

The first round of shots went off and suddenly I could hear something. Giggling. Faint, childish giggling. It was like a little boy about to get a delicious piece of candy. This sound was followed quickly by a tug deep in my stomach and the certainty that the Joker was near. I tried to pinpoint where the draw was coming from as the second round of shots went off. But there was something odd in that round. It sounded as if someone had shot a second too early from somewhere else.

"Jim," I murmured, looking to him and trying to alert him with my mind. He immediately looked in my direction and I saw the realization that something was wrong in the widening of his eyes. For a brief, horrific moment we both knew what was going to happen next. Jim Gordon lunged, pushing the mayor out of the way as the third round of shots went off and a good portion of them were aimed at the platform. I pulled Erin to the ground and covered her body with my own. The sound of gunfire seemed to hover in the air even when the bullets had long since lost their usefulness. Screams continued, the sound of shoes hitting the pavement. I learned how to breathe again once I felt that Erin wasn't about to be stolen from me by a stray bullet.

"Sybie?" she whimpered. I rolled off so I wasn't crushing her anymore. She immediately wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. I could feel her shaking like a dried out leaf.

"It's okay, baby. I've got you," I assured her. The police were quickly evacuating all the important people off the platform, starting with my uncle. I helped Erin stand up all the while making sure my body was acting as a shield between her and where the shots had originally been fired. "Come on, darling. We're getting you out of here." Officers were already swarming us, ushering the two of us to safety. We would have gone home then. I would have spent my time comforting Erin and making sure no permanent psychological damage had been done by her brush with death. But I glanced back. I felt the grief pouring off a policeman kneeling on the platform and I saw… I saw Jim. "No."

That was my only thought. No. Not him. Not this man. This good, kind, decent man. This man who had two children. I'd seen them in his head, brief flashes of beautiful young faces. They absolutely adored him. Jim Gordon dying wasn't right. This man did not deserve to die.

The sorrow quickly turned to rage inside me. "Erin, I want you to go home and lock yourself in your room. Absolutely do not leave until I come and get you, all right?" She nodded and before she could voice her confusion I escaped the police escort and ran into the frantic crowd. Erin probably shouted after me. I couldn't hear much of anything above the sound of frightened people.

I could still feel the Joker and that meant I could trace him. He'd made a run for it after that third shot. His frustration was a bitter taste in my mouth. He was annoyed and looking forward to releasing some stress. So why the hell was I trying to find him? I'm just going to go ahead and blame my Irish temper. I was angry. The Joker had crossed the line by killing Gordon. I'd put up with him before that. Now I couldn't. Now I had to do something.

Honestly, while I was following the trail down a deserted street and past dark alleys I hadn't actually thought of a plan. I just wanted to find him and hoped the rest would work itself out. So when a hand fastened on my wrist then tugged me into a narrow alleyway, I had absolutely nothing up my sleeve. The Joker pinned my wrists above my head with one hand and pressed me firmly against the wall.

"How did you like the show, my girl?"

"You son of a bitch!" I snarled, attempting to knee him in the groin. His free hand gripped my knee and moved to it the side. Overall, my current condition was not a good one. Hands restrained, the Joker between my legs and absolutely no way to fight him. Yeah, not good. "Jim Gordon was a good man. I don't expect you to appreciate that since you can't possibly conceive of the idea. What I do know you'll understand is the fact that you've seriously pissed me off. I've got a sister to protect and I will not be humoring you anymore. The next time we run into each other there will be no witty banter or inappropriate behavior. I'll just call the police and let them deal with you. So I'd suggest you take your murderous tendencies and find some other girl to harass. Clear?" The rant helped my temper and I began to see past the blind haze of anger. And my breath got caught in my throat.

"Sybil, sweetheart," he murmured, bringing his face closer to mine. "Don't be a nag." The Joker was wearing a formal police uniform. His green hair had been pulled up under a black hat and white gloves covered his hands. The look really didn't suit him. What had swept me off my feet, however, wasn't the outfit. His face was bare. I was getting a good look at the man behind the face paint. His scars looked old but more natural than they did when he smeared them with streetwalker red lipstick. He was pale and the dark circles around his eyes told me that this man didn't sleep much. "It's rude to stare, beautiful. I'm sure you've seen worse things in those delightful monster movies that are so popular these days."

"I didn't expect-" Thankfully the filter between my brain and my mouth kicked into gear and I cut myself off. He lifted a brow at my sudden silence.

"Didn't expect what?" I kept my mouth shut and the ever-smiling Joker managed a frown. "Come on, Sybil, not all of us can read minds. Share with the rest of the class." That constant pull towards him was still present but I could resist. It was becoming normal to me. Needing him was becoming normal. However, thanks to our last encounter he knew how to look into me now. He knew my powers were immediately pulled into him when our gazes locked. He could read me and I could feel that he was fully prepared to do it. "Sybil," he said, speak-singing my name.

"I didn't expect you to be pretty," I confessed. He was, too. It was totally inexplicable but undeniable. There was a beauty to his face that was marred by the scars but not obliterated. He smirked at me, sliding his hand down my arm until he cupped my cheek. I had the use of my arms back now but he was apparently unconcerned by this fact. I guess he had a point. There wasn't a lot I could do against a man of his strength.

"You must have a weak spot for men in a uniform. First the dearly departed lieutenant and now me. Seriously Sybil, you may have a problem." He snickered in my face even as he stroked my scar. I glared at him.

"I said what I had to say. Let me go." The Joker didn't even acknowledge that I'd spoken. Instead his eyes drifted down and he quirked his head to the side.

"If you don't mind, I'm used to seeing you with a little more bare skin," he commented as he lifted a hand and began to unbutton my blouse. I tried to bat his hands away with very little success. He'd undone my shirt half way before he was satisfied. "Now, Sybil, I have a proposition for you. It's a real shame to waste those interesting powers of yours protecting Princess Erin. Why don't you come along with me? The two of us could have a lot of fun in this city." I stared at him. Those beautiful and deranged eyes stared right back at me with an eagerness that was almost frightening.

"Chaos isn't really my thing," I replied, voice completely flat. "But thanks for the offer." His grip on my face tightened.

"Well then, _Sybie, _can I still try to change your mind?" He didn't bother to wait for an answer. The Joker covered my lips with his open mouth. A wave of emotion hit me and I gasped. Desperation, hunger, attraction. Whatever power that dragged the two of us together infected me. I forgot who I was and who he was. Well, who we were in this life, anyway.

It wasn't a gentle kiss by any stretch of the imagination. He wreaked havoc on my senses, using his teeth and tongue to their best effect. I answered in kind as I knocked his hat off and tangled my fingers in his greasy, moss-colored hair. The longer the kiss went on the more I remembered how this all began. Before I was Sybil Callaghan and before he was the Joker, we'd been normal. Normal, functioning human beings in love with each other. That was how I felt now. I didn't feel like Erin's freak sister. I was a normal woman being kissed by the man she desperately loved. And the feeling was mutual.

But… but I'd screwed it up. Something had gone wrong. I'd cracked under pressure and married someone safer. And I regretted it for the rest of my life. I'd regretted it so much that the guilt had carried over into my next life.

He lifted me up enough so I could wrap my legs around his waist. I enjoyed the way he ate at my mouth while I began to undo the buttons of his stolen uniform. The hard brick wall scraped against my back and he had bitten my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything except how he made me feel.

I would have gladly let him screw me against that wall but, ironically, he reminded me of who I really was. The Joker traced my scar. Suddenly I could see the twisted hunk of metal that had once been my parents' car. I could see Erin and all I was to her. And I remembered that I was not a normal woman and I was certainly not in love with the man currently kissing my brains into mush.

Jim Gordon was dead and I was kissing his murderer.

I kicked him. He was relaxed enough for the blow to knock him back quite a bit and I was finally free. I sprinted as fast as I could out of that alley, down the street and back into the crowd. Once I'd finished running my lungs felt like they were on fire. I panted, hands trembling as I struggled to get buttoned up again.

The single positive thing about this day was that I now knew what I was dealing with and I could potentially fight back. The huge, overwhelming negative was that I wasn't at all sure that I'd be able to fight or that I'd even want to.

Damn, I wished he hadn't kissed me. Now my day dreams were going to become a whole new kind of disturbing. Fan-bloody-tastic.


	8. Trapped

Trapped

What do you do when you feel like you're about to lose your mind? How do you fight madness? And what is sanity? I wasn't sure if I had ever been entirely sane, considering the fact that I heard voices in my head. Maybe I had always been crazy but dormant, waiting for the Joker to come along and wake me up. Or perhaps this had nothing to do with sanity and everything to do with love. A love that had been so intense and done so much damage that it remained embedded in the souls of both the Joker and myself. Was that the problem here?

No matter the problem, I had the solution. I was going to run. That day I'd gone to the bank and withdrawn enough cash for two people to survive on for at least a week, including airfare. I was going to get on a plane and put hundreds of miles between Gotham and me. And I was taking Erin with me.

"Sybil, could you please slow down a second? I don't understand," she pleaded, following me as I opened drawers and stuffed her clothes into the suitcase lying open on her bed. I'd already packed since I knew I could do it quickly. With Erin I would have to explain why we were running and why we were doing it secretly.

"As long as the Joker's on the street, we aren't safe. So we're going to take ourselves out of the equation by leaving. Just think of it as a vacation. You've been dying to go to Hawaii." Erin started to follow me to her closet then decided against it. Instead she began to properly fold the clothes I'd just stuck haphazardly in her suitcase.

"You never run away," she pointed out. I pursed my lips. As if I needed reminding.

"I will if it keeps you safe. I've never been this far out of my depth. Look, Erin, I didn't want you to know this but I guess I can't keep it from you anymore." I turned around and looked into her suddenly wide eyes. "I'm not a superhero." Erin's shoulders sagged and her expression was clearly relieved. She probably thought I was being sarcastic. The true meaning of that statement would sink in later and she would understand what I really said. I was saying I wasn't perfect, that I couldn't be her indestructible shield against a dangerous world. I'd failed.

But that was for later. Right now, she thought it was a joke.

"Okay, we can go to Hawaii. You need a tan, anyway," she noted, taking the clothes I'd grabbed from her closet before I could wrinkle them. "I don't understand why we can't tell anyone where we're going, though."

"I don't want to leave a trail," I said, surrendering the duty of packing into her hands and leaning against the wall. "We aren't going to take a car so wear practical shoes. We'll catch a ferry then go to the nearest airport. Any cash you have with you, take it. We aren't going to be using credit cards for a while." I was being paranoid, believing every movie I'd seen and every book I'd read where people on the run had been caught by credit card use. If Gordon had been alive, I would have called to let him know Erin and I were disappearing for a while. But he wasn't. I didn't trust anyone else with my sister's future.

"Shouldn't we at least wait till morning to do this? Gotham at night isn't safe," Erin reminded me. I smiled weakly.

"It is tonight." I knew where the Joker's eyes were going to be focused tonight. Dent had claimed he was the Batman and the terrorist clown was going to be after him the second he was out on the open road with his police escort.

There was a surprised exclamation from downstairs and I frowned. It sounded like people were scurrying. "Erin, I'm going to go see what's up. Keep packing." I made it down the stairs in time to see my uncle running out the front doors. Something had happened. Something big. I clutched the arm of one of my uncle's lackeys as he followed after the mayor. "What's happening?"

"Sorry, Miss Callaghan, I don't have time. The Joker's been caught and Gordon's alive." He shook me off, which wasn't really difficult since I was in shock, and ran to catch up with the political pack. I was frozen in place. Gordon was alive. Gordon was…

"Erin!" I shouted. She appeared at the top of the stairs just in time to see me shrugging into a beaten plaid jacket. "Erin, I'm going to the MCU. Gordon's alive. If I'm not back by morning then just go. I'll catch up with you. My bag has everything you'll need."

"But how will you find me?" she asked, clearly alarmed by the idea of being left on her own. I rolled my eyes and gave her a warm smile.

"Baby girl, I've known you since you took your first gulp of air. Your thoughts are like the back of my hand. I will always be able to find you." I snagged one of the sets of keys from the collection on the wall before giving her a quick wave. "I love you."

"I love you, too!"

Then I was out of there.

I shamelessly violated the speed limit but I figured since I was already going to the police there was no harm in it. Even though I was driving faster, the mayor got to the Major Crimes Unit before I did. That was just as well. He could get whatever he needed to say to Gordon out and then I could slap the formerly dead lieutenant for giving me a heart attack. He'd better have a damn good excuse for making me panic like that.

It was ridiculously easy to walk into the MCU and find Jim Gordon. For one thing, everyone was so busy that they didn't notice the girl with the tacky coat, washed out jeans and sneakers. To find Gordon, I just followed the sound of applause. I figured that would be my best bet. After all, what else was there to do when someone comes back from the dead?

_Come on, everyone! Give Lazarus a round of applause! _

I walked into what I immediately saw was some kind of holding room, if the bars were anything to go by. I didn't really care about my surroundings. It was all gray and boring anyway. My eyes focused on a ruffled head of hair, tired smoky blue eyes behind glasses and deep worry lines. Before I realized what I was doing, I had smiled and run to him, throwing my arms around his neck.

"Jim!"

"Sybil? What are you doing here?" His tone was puzzled but he was smiling at me when I pulled back to look at him. I slapped his arm.

"You're looking surprisingly good for a dead guy," I said, narrowing my eyes. He looked slightly abashed.

"I'm sorry I lied to you but I couldn't risk my family anymore." We shared a moment of complete understanding. He knew that I knew exactly what he meant. And he knew that I would have done the same thing. I sighed.

"You sure know how to take the wind out of someone's sails. I had a lecture all prepared. I guess I'll just let your wife do the honors." She'd probably do a better job, anyway. I couldn't even pretend to be mad at him when I was this close, picking up on his warm, honest nature.

"Listen, Sybil, you should get out of here," Jim told me, taking my arm and trying to gently steer me out of the room. That's when I felt it. A tingling, irresistible brush down my spine begged me to turn around and look. I knew what I'd see. Who I'd see. I wanted to go on with Jim but my feet had become rooted to the floor and it was all I could do to keep from turning around. Then the Joker did something no one expected.

"The very thought of you…"

He started singing.

His surprisingly deep voice startled everyone, including Jim. The good lieutenant's grip loosened on my arm and I turned around. The Joker had resumed his costume but I could see through the make-up now. It wouldn't have been hard anyway since his rough night had smeared and streaked the paint. Only the shirt was different. It was light blue with a hexagonal pattern. His dark eyes caught mine and I forgot everything except the soothing quality of his voice. "And I forget to do…" He leaned against the bars, one arm casually braced against the metal while his other hand was in his pocket. "The little ordinary things everyone ought to do."

"Sybil, don't get too close." Jim's warning echoed oddly in my ears. Get too close? I wasn't moving, was I? Then I realized I was nearly halfway across the room and within a few feet of the Joker. Dammit! He wasn't that great of a singer and he certainly wasn't hypnotic to everyone else. I could pick up a general feeling of disgust circulating the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed. My voice was low but he heard me all too easily. He smirked.

"What's wrong, beautiful? Am I embarrassing you in front of your new best friend?" The Joker's eyes flickered to Jim and I felt his jealousy like a swift punch to the gut. He was a possessive bastard and I was his girl. He didn't want other men touching his girl.

"Oh, grow up," I muttered, turning away. Jim had clearly been silently motioning for everyone to stay back while the Joker and I had our brief chat. I felt a surge of gratitude. The man was fantastic.

"Just a minute, Sybil sweetheart. Don't you want to know about my great escape?" Ah, crap. A general sense of duty toward my fellow man made me turn around. That's what the Joker had been banking on, after all. I tried not to listen to what he was mentally broadcasting but it was a bit like ignoring a man screaming in the center of the room. You can't help but listen. Not to mention the fact that my power was naturally drawn to him. I was basically screwed.

He wanted me to stick around. He'd missed me the other day and was sorry he couldn't have dropped by to visit. He'd just been _so _busy setting up for tonight… I got a few brief flashes of a large truck and a helicopter going up in flames. His expression was arrogant but I could sense a little bit of anxiousness behind it. He wanted to know what I thought of all that. He… he wanted me to be impressed! I shuddered. This was too weird. He was taking this whole twisted past life relationship in completely the wrong way.

"What great escape?" I asked, going back to the conversation we'd been having out loud. If I started responding to things he thought then I'd be getting way too many strange looks from the cops surrounding us.

"You know me, Sybil. I won't be sticking around for long. Don't you want to _question _me in that all too unique way of yours to find out just when I'll be dropping in on you and Princess Erin?" I stiffened. It didn't matter when he broke out since I was taking Erin out of this city. Unfortunately, I couldn't find it in myself to leave Gordon on the edge of a potential disaster without trying to help. And the Joker knew that. I was beginning to understand just how well he knew me. The more I knew, the more frightened I became.

"Not here," I mumbled. I'd have to work something out with Gordon. Surely with the police commissioner dead he had enough authority to get the Joker and I a room with no witnesses. Or at least no one listening.

"You don't like to be watched. I'll have to remember that for later," he said with a slow lick of his lips. To my deep shame, the move provoked my body and I suddenly felt too warm. My cheeks were burning. I turned away quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice the blush. Looking at Jim immediately soothed my nerves.

"I know you want to go home but could you do me a small favor first?" I asked, preparing to beg long and hard.

--

Begging was putting it mildly. I nearly had to promise Gordon my first born in order to get alone in an interrogation room with the Joker. Thankfully his desperation to see his family worked in my favor. He left me in the hopefully capable hands of a Detective Ramirez who was currently watching me through the window. She couldn't hear us, though. I'd insisted on that. Gordon had been more reasonable on that score since he knew I had to protect myself from exposure as best as I could. The other cops thought we were nuts but they weren't going to go against the commissioner's orders.

Commissioner Gordon. That news had pleased me. The city needed a man like him in a high position of authority. Now we just needed a mayor more interested in the good of the people instead of political success. Of course, that probably only existed in a perfect world.

I leaned against the door and stared at him. He was seated in the chair behind the plain metal table. My instincts were telling me to let this go and just run away with Erin. The really sad thing was my instincts were probably right.

"Don't back down now, _Sybie_," he said, taunting me with the childish nickname. "You've been so brave up till now." I glared at him.

"Who said I was backing down?" I crossed the room to the other available chair, wishing the lights in this place weren't fluorescent. The glare was fierce against the painted bricks and mirrors. I avoided looking at the mirrors because otherwise Detective Ramirez would assume I was signaling her. That's what we'd set up beforehand. If I looked into the mirrors for her, she'd come rescue me. I hoped that wouldn't be necessary.

"I like the jacket, by the way," he commented, bringing his handcuffed arms up to rest on the table. "Very colorful."

"And very off topic." I sat across from him, leaning back so there was no way for his arms to come in contact with mine. "Are you going to tell me what you're planning or do I have to dig for it?" He grinned, scars stretching across his face.

"You know the answer to that, my girl." I sighed quietly. Down the rabbit hole, then. Brilliant.

I didn't have to strain to see his thoughts. In fact, it actually felt natural. I didn't blink, didn't look away from his eyes. I tried to avoid the violent thoughts, the chaos, but a lot of it sank in and would probably torment me later. From the books I'd read, I knew concentration was important. Concentration and keeping my own mind clear. Finally I stumbled on more coherent thoughts. I thought I was lucky until I realized he'd put them up front to help me out.

_Given any more thought to my proposal?_ I pointedly ignored that thought, chasing after the brief image I'd seen of the MCU going up in flames. It wasn't a memory but an imagined future. One he seemed fairly certain of, too, so it was probably best to pursue it. He very smoothly blocked me. _I don't like being ignored, sweetheart._

"It's still no," I mumbled, frustrated by how much better the Joker was at mind games than I was. It made sense in a way. A lack of sanity led to a certain lack of mental inhibition.

"Mind if I try changing your mind again?" he asked with a leer. I could sense the coming disaster but I couldn't withdraw from his thoughts fast enough. He'd dreamed of me just as vividly as I'd dreamed of him. Now he was sharing his fantasies with me.

I just about fell out of my chair. I'd never seen myself through another person's eyes and I doubted anyone would ever see me like the Joker did. From his point of view, I looked exotic. And, apparently, I looked very good in purple lace underwear. Good enough to eat, if you get my drift.

"Enough." I covered my eyes with my hands, wishing the image of me writhing under the Joker's hands wasn't burned into my brain.

"Tonight." My head went quiet for a moment. I lowered my hands, taking in the Joker's smug expression.

"Tonight," I repeated. "Tonight what? Tonight you break out?" He continued to stare at me with that infuriating smirk. I scowled and tried again to find something useful.

Harvey Dent. My eyes widened. Oh, God, the DA hadn't made it home and the clock was ticking. I stood up, prepared to make a run for it. He lunged for my hand and his fingers locked around my skin. I shot a pleading look at the mirror, hoping Detective Ramirez came to the rescue after all. Then he jerked me around the table until he could pin me against it.

"Stick around for the fireworks," he whispered against my mouth.

The detective saved me, of course. I was hurried out of the interrogation room and then I told them to check up on Harvey Dent. This sent everyone into a panic. Gordon would be called back, which I regretted. He deserved more time with his family.

As for me, I deserved a padded cell for letting the Joker get this far underneath my skin. I knew from those flashes of me naked that he saw me as his girl because I did what he tried to force the rest of the world to do. I made him feel normal. I didn't completely understand it yet. Still, it was only a matter of time.

God help me.

**Author's Note**: Everyone please contribute to the poll on my profile. I'm trying to convince a talented youtube creator to make a trailer for the story and I need to know how you all see Sybil.


	9. Ruin and Rapture

(Author's Note: I'm baaaack. Sort of. See my profile for more details on that. Anyway, since the trailer for this story fell through because the talented video maker I was trying to get actually had a life. Go figure, huh? So I thought I'd open the challenge up to the fans. Rachel McAdams has been voted most like Sybil and Erin is played by a blonde Amy Adams. The music is up to you. Oh, and every challenge should have a reward. So how about you design a character for the story and I'll put him or her on in here? Sound good? I sure hope so cause that's all I've got to offer except for updates. Bon chance!)

Ruin and Rapture

When Erin was in first grade an older boy decided to make her his personal plaything. He was the son of a very rich man, born and bred to believe that he was entitled. No one contradicted him and no one stood up to him. Until he went after my sister.

He pulled her hair, pinched her arms and did his best to crush her spirit in small, demeaning ways. Erin went to me immediately and I told her that she just had to tell her teacher and everything would be fine. It wasn't. This boy brought in far too much tuition and his father was exceedingly generous. The administration would never dream of crossing him for two orphans whose uncle was merely an aspiring politician at that point. That was when I realized I couldn't depend on anyone else to do what needed to be done. I had to protect my sister.

So I pulled him aside one day and warned him that if he ever made Erin cry again, I'd punish him. He was far too arrogant to believe that the freak girl, the shadow in the library, would ever be able to punish him. To rub it in my face, he chopped off one of Erin's curls. The next day he fell down the stairs and broke his arm.

I say fell because no one was ever able to prove that I'd pushed him.

_Roses are red. Violets are blue. It may take a while but I'll get you._

I wasn't entirely well back in my school days. The school shrink thought for a brief period of time that I was schizophrenic. Reclusive, eccentric and very anti-social, I realized that one day he might be right if I couldn't pull myself together. It was just so frustratingly difficult. This was because my hormones were wreaking havoc with my powers and I had no clue how to control myself. I focused all my frustrated energy on making sure Erin's life was perfect. Anyone who interfered with my goal was ruthlessly dealt with. A certain amount of control came with age and I began to realize violence wasn't the answer. At least I had until I shoved a stiletto into a man's eye because he was staring at Erin.

The problem was that when it came to my sister I had absolutely no rules. I'd never been forced to kill for her but I didn't doubt that I could. And I would, if forced, without the slightest hesitation. Up until now I was always able to ignore this part of me. I found that the best strategy since it frightened me.

The Joker wasn't afraid of it. The Joker was attracted to it, to me. If I believed in fate, I would think that I was the way I was because it made me the only woman he wanted for more than a few hours of entertainment. My gift had never been formally trained so I couldn't resist his pull. Also thanks to the frustration and pain that caused there was a very dark, lawless side to my personality that he adored. I'd read once that before we're born we choose the path we're going to take, the obstacles we deal with and even our own death. I couldn't help but think that if that was true then the woman I was before this life couldn't have done a better job of setting this up.

It also meant that I was criminally stupid in my past life. Whoopee.

I sighed and dug my fingers into my hair. Honestly, didn't I have more important things to worry about than how all this came about?

"Has he said anything yet?" I looked up to see a frazzled Gordon pop his head into the room I was currently inhabiting with half a dozen cops. Apparently someone shook their head because he abruptly turned on his heel and entered the interrogation room.

"Evening, _Commissioner_." I shivered. Great, they'd turned up the volume so everyone could hear perfectly in this dark little viewing room. Why was I even here? I should be running for the hills. Instead I found a chair in the corner and took a seat. It was probably well after midnight by now. My eyes felt bloodshot and if I wasn't so charged up with nervous energy I wouldn't have any trouble falling asleep. I ignored the exchange between Gordon and the Joker until I heard the sound of handcuffs being removed. Fatigue was the last thing on my mind now. Was Gordon nuts? "The good cop, bad cop routine?"

"Not exactly." The bright fluorescent lights were switched on and I winced. A loud bang followed by a groan clued me into exactly what Gordon had been planning. The dark figure of Batman was facing the Joker. He looked unreal in the glaring lights. I tried to catch Gordon's eye but he wasn't paying attention. Well, I couldn't blame him. There were more interesting things happening in the interrogation room, after all.

"Then why do you want to kill me?" The Joker's high-pitched laughter followed that question and I wished I'd been listening more closely.

"I don't want to kill you! What would I do without you?" _I like this job. I like it!_ I considered this new angle, remembering the little things I'd heard in the Joker's head. Batman really was the Joker's polar opposite. An agent of Chaos and one of Order had been thrown into one city. Things were bound to get crazy and that thrilled the Joker. "_You. Complete. Me._"

"And Sybil Callaghan? What is she to you?" I jerked, eyes immediately going to the police commissioner's guiltily hunched figure. He'd told the Batman about me. But how much? He wouldn't have told him about my gift. Right?

"Oh, so you know about serious Sybil? I'm sure that thrills her right down to her toes." He glanced at the mirror and for a moment it felt like he'd seen me. Damn, that couldn't be good. Even though I was upset and disturbed, I was also a little curious. Was he going to tell the Batman about our relationship? Whatever that relationship happened to be. Was there even a word for it? "You'd like her. See, you two have something in common. To the rest of the dull, law-abiding world, you're just a couple of freaks. Like me!" I shivered, not liking the attention the cops were suddenly giving me. They probably wondered how I'd gotten lumped into the same category as the Joker and Batman. "See, their morals, their code, it's a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They're only as good as the world allows them to be."

He was right. I wasn't comfortable with thinking that and I wouldn't say it out loud. But… he was right. For God's sake, I'd had to push a kid down the stairs because no one would take disciplinary action to protect my sister. Batman had to go after criminals on his own because the system was corrupt. "See, I'm not a monster. I'm just ahead of the curve." Batman seized the Joker and pulled him up across the table. Apparently there was only so much insightfulness the masked vigilante could take from a guy who dressed up like a clown.

For Batman to get any answers out of the Joker, he probably would have to beat the crap out of him. I understood that. However, I found that I wasn't crazy about seeing the Joker slammed against walls. I had to fight the urge to go in and rescue him, even though I knew he was getting a kick out of it. Of course, when he upped the stakes by revealing that Rachel Dawes had been taken as well, Batman lost what little control he had. I didn't move when he blocked the door but Gordon did. Instead I quietly approached the window and pressed my hands against the surface of the glass. I tried to understand what I was feeling, what seemed to be eating at the insides of my heart.

Weakness. I had a weakness for the Joker building up inside me, expanding every time I saw him. This made me flinch when his head hit the window hard enough to put a crack in the glass. This mad, pathetic fondness was making me want to cradle his injured body against mine. I would never do it because I knew him better than that. Beatings were nothing to him. Too bad my stupid woman's heart didn't understand logic.

Finally it stopped. The Joker gave Batman what he wanted and the dark vigilante was out of there without a second's delay. In fact, everyone was out of there except for one man who stayed behind to keep an eye on the Joker. I hadn't gotten his name but he looked experienced. Unfortunately, there was no amount of experience that could make someone impervious to the Joker. I kept a very careful eye on the two of them, resisting the urge to delve into thoughts and just read body language instead. Almost immediately the Joker had begun to poke at his guard. I only got really worried when he started to go into detail about why he used a knife. I could see the cop stiffen, tension and rage making his eyes sharp.

"Don't," I whispered, although neither of them could hear me.

"Would you like to know which of them were cowards?"

_Shit!_ The Joker knew exactly what buttons to push with this twenty-year cop. Insinuating that his friends who'd been killed doing their jobs were cowards… Well, he wasn't about to let that fly. I made a quick dash for the door, hoping I could stop what was going to come next.

"I know you're going to enjoy this…"

"No!" I shouted, pounding my hands against the door. If I thought for a minute that the Joker was actually weakened by his encounter with Batman then I probably wouldn't have tried to interfere with the beating he richly deserved. Probably. In any case, I was convinced that his tired act was exactly that. Just an act. This cop was stepping into a trap. "Don't! Don't let him into your head!" There was silence for a brief moment then a surprised grunt, scuffling… _gurgling_? I pressed my ear against the door, trying to figure out what was going on. Abruptly the door opened and I fell forward. An arm came around my waist to pull me out of the interrogation room but not before I got a good look at the policeman collapsed on the floor, blood pouring from the gash in his throat. "_Oh, God_," I whimpered, spinning around to press my face against the nearest warm body. Unfortunately the nearest warm body happened to be the Joker, although he was all too happy to have me clinging to him.

I felt nauseous, stomach still turning from the grizzly sight, so I wasn't immediately aware of the wandering hands that had crept under my coat and begun to feel their way around my waist until they found the edge of my shirt. At the feel of his hands against my skin, I forgot all about the dead body in the next room. I didn't care that one of those delectable hands held a shard of glass that was probably still dripping blood. In fact, the glass was useful. He could cut away my clothes with it and touch the rest of me. I was close enough to hear his thoughts and I knew the same idea had occurred to him.

"I'm glad you stuck around," he whispered into my ear.

"I'm not," I muttered, only partially lying.

"Spoilsport," he complained. The Joker turned me around in his arms then pressed the glass against my throat. "Now, can you be a good girl and act like a convincing hostage?"

"I know you won't kill me," I pointed out, surprisingly calm for a girl with a sharp object pressed against her throat. "I won't pretend otherwise to help you escape." His reluctance to kill me didn't have anything to do with love or affection. Like the Batman, I rubbed society the wrong way. And there were far too few people of that ilk in the world, or so he believed.

"Hm, disappointing answer. Still, more than one way to skin a cat." I can't explain what he did next. I wasn't an expert on the human body. All I know is that one minute he'd wrapped his arms around my neck and the next minute I was unconscious.

I woke to the sensation of someone nuzzling against my hair. I blinked. What had just happened? Where was I? Even more importantly, where had my clothes gone? I'd realized someone had stripped me down to my underwear shortly after regaining consciousness. I was colder than I should have been, which led me to look down at my body. Of course today was one of the unlucky days where my bra and panties didn't match. The bra was boring and flesh-toned while the panties were black. Definitely not the purple the Joker had been hoping for…

"Oh, my God!" Everything clicked into place and I jerked forward, away from the man I knew was stroking my hair. I remembered the interrogation, the blood, the glass, all of it. The Joker's hands caught me by the shoulders and pulled me back against his chest.

"Calm down, sleeping beauty," he cooed into my ear. I couldn't make out our surroundings since there wasn't a single flickering of light anywhere but I could feel the mattress under me. And I could tell that the Joker had gotten ride of a few layers by the way he felt pressed against my back. I won't lie. I felt panicked.

"Sleeping beauty was a princess," I mumbled, realizing that while I was panicked I also felt a disturbing urge to curl around his body. "I thought I was supposed to be the dragon in the fairy tale metaphors." His naked hands skimmed down my arms and along the sides of my breasts.

"Frightened?" he whispered into my hair. "You must be. The valiant fire-breathing Sybie, away from her princess, from her entire life's meaning." The Joker's fingertips danced across my stomach. His thoughts began to flow more clearly through my head. I saw his memories of undressing me, the lists of things he could have done with my body while I was dead to the world. But no, he wanted me awake.

And I _was_ frightened. I was alone with the Joker but that wasn't the frightening part. I was alone with myself. He'd tear down the barriers I kept around certain parts of my personality and make me stare at them until I could never ignore their existence again. He'd twist me and bend me until I wouldn't even recognize my face the next time I looked in a mirror. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for to take the protective dragon and make her into the psychotic soul mate of his dreams. I closed my eyes. There was no surviving this unscarred, literally and figuratively.

"Let go." I didn't believe for a moment that he would but it was worth a try. His response was a giggle. "Please."

"Are you going to beg, my girl?" he asked, pressing his mouth against my neck and nipping at the skin with his teeth. He wasn't gentle about it, either.

"Probably," I admitted. The more he touched me, the more I could hear him inside my head. If the two of us had sex, there would be no way for me to block him out to even the slightest degree. I so did not want to know every thought in the Joker's head. That was not a place I could come out of sane.

"Probably," he repeated, amusement thick in his voice. Amusement and something darker. "But what, Sybil my girl, will you be begging for?" His hand slipped below the waistband of my underwear and I lost myself.

I'd like to think the reason I got so caught up in his touches was because I'd never had anyone do things like that to me before that. I was a virgin. The Joker delighted in this knowledge. The fact that I hadn't been taken before meant he could make everything hurt so much more. And it did. For every moment of pleasure there was pain. He gripped me hard enough to bruise and drew blood with his nails. He tore at my mouth until I was bleeding there as well. Then he turned gentle, kissing me sweetly. I could taste blood and sweat and him.

"Please." The word was so soft and tiny that I doubted whether he'd be able to hear it. He lifted his head, looking me in the eye.

"Please what, Sybil?"

"Please…" I hated this. I wanted to go home, curl up in a corner and cry. I hated his thoughts rolling through my head, his needs making a home in my body. "Please, more." The scars on his face stretched up as he smiled his delight at me.

I hated it but I loved him. I couldn't do anything but love him, was forced into it by our connection and the needs of a past life. And I had to have more.

"That's my girl."

My last coherent thought for a while was a plea for help. I couldn't save myself.

For once, someone was going to have to rescue me.


	10. A Social Experiment

A Social Experiment

"Sybil? Jesus Christ, Sybil, what happened to you?"

Good question.

Apparently I'd been more or less declared dead the day after the MCU exploded. I had disappeared, after all. The police had been working under the assumption that my body would turn up under the rubble of the destroyed building at any time. Now, my status had been changed. I was the victim of kidnapping and… and rape.

I wish it had been rape. I wish that I'd been forced and that the things the Joker had done to my body repulsed me. But you can't rape the willing. I had been willing and active. If anyone got a look at the Joker's back soon then they'd discover several scabbing, vivid lines to prove just how active I'd been.

I knew how I looked. I'd passed a few reflective surfaces since my night with the Joker. My hair was a snarled mess, there were several dark marks on my neck, bruises on my arms and places other people couldn't see, and my mouth looked ripped and tattered. It actually hurt to talk, depending on how I had to shape my lips in order to say the words. Of course that pain was nothing compared to the one between my thighs. I was dead certain that the words 'vaginal tearing' were going to be in my future.

So what did I say when Jim Gordon walked into his new office to find me curled up on one of his chairs? Nothing. I didn't say a word. One look at his concerned but exhausted face after hours of clown paint, black leather and SWAT uniforms set me off. I started crying. Hard.

What happened to me?

---

I had faded in and out of consciousness for hours before finally opening my eyes and assessing my surroundings. There was artificial light leaking through the walls, something like streetlamps and city lights. I was on the floor of what looked like an unfinished room, wrapped up in a cheap motel sheet. Being born rich had made me especially attuned to the quality of sheets and this was not a good sheet. I stared dimly at the fabric, apparently the only cover I had. My brain began to make sense of the rust-colored stains on it. Blood. My blood.

High-pitched, hysterical laughter pounded in my head as the sight of blood triggered a thousand different memories, none of which belonged to me. The feel of blood on my hands, the taste of it and something more solid after I'd shot someone in the head, the image of blood mingling in dark sewer water… I, Sybil, clutched my head and cried out.

He was in me, he would always be in me and I couldn't escape. Everything in me was poisoned. I couldn't be with anyone good, I couldn't touch anything pure without bringing him with me, I couldn't do… couldn't… no….

_Sky high. Harvey Dent's most wanted… Innocent civilians. Noble. _Words began to assimilate in my mind. Sentences were a little beyond me but at least it was better than violent images. I could control this. I would not lose Sybil.

It took a good ten minutes for the words to make sense. The Joker was planning something. He'd announced it and… Social experiment? Something to do with the ferries. An explosion. But not all of them had to die. There was a choice.

Ferries. Why did that bother me? What was I trying to remember?

It occurred to me that I barely had space in my head for my own memories anymore now that the Joker had taken up residence, so to speak. I couldn't remember why the ferries should make me feel like I was forgetting something or… or someone.

_"I want to walk the line, walk the line 'til the end of time." _

I knotted my fingers in my hair as I tried to think past the sound of screaming. Why was there screaming inside my head? What was I trying to find? No, not what. Who?

Singing… singing… Who do I sing for?

_"The very thought of you…" NO! _No, there had to be someone else in my head, please, anyone else…

_"Your thoughts are like the back of my hand. I will always be able to find you." _There was more screaming. Shouts of protest. They don't deserve to have this happen to them… they're good people…

_I'm afraid. I'm afraid. Oh, God, I've never been this afraid. Sybil, why did you have to go?_ I focused in on the sound of my name. I knew these thoughts. But whose were they? _This wasn't what she wanted. I should have waited. She would have been smarter. I don't want to die. I miss her but I don't want to die._

_But what am I without Sybie?_

What am I without – _"Little Erin's sibling _Sybil_." _

"Oh, my God!" I whispered, crawling up off the floor as what I'd forgotten finally came back.

Erin was on the ferry. Erin, following my directions to the letter, had gotten on one of the ferries the Joker had rigged with explosives. And the Joker had known. He'd been in my head so of course he'd known. He'd also scattered everything in my brain to hell and back so that I'd had the worst time trying to put my memories together. He had very artfully used my untrained talent to his advantage. Now he had an unstable woman in his care that would only need a push in the right direction to fall into old, violent habits. Erin's death would be the perfect push.

But I wasn't broken now. I was furious. "Joker!" I clawed my way into a standing position, wrapping the stained sheet tight around my body. My body was singing songs of bruises and torn flesh along my nerves but I ignored it. I was too busy staring at _him_.

We were several stories up in a building still under construction that had a perfect view of the two stranded ferries out on the water. In one of them sat my sister, shaken and terrified. I didn't have the strength to reach out to her with words. Even if I did, she might think she was delusional. For some reason she thought I was dead.

"Hmm, you woke up early, my girl," he said, glancing casually out at the ferries. Two dogs, hell if I knew the breed, were standing at his feet. They didn't pay me any attention. Apparently a skinny woman in a sheet wasn't much of a threat. "Sleep well?"

"Shove it," I snapped. "My head's all back together again. I know what you did. If you think for one second that I'd fall into your arms after you kill my sister - " He gripped my arm and jerked me forward, fisting a gloved hand in my hair. He looked the same as ever, right down to the long purple coat that somehow shrunk him down and lessened the width of his shoulders. Now I knew the man behind the clothes, the make-up, the scars. I knew him so well that it might drive me insane.

"You think you're all fixed?" he asked before giggling as if he'd never heard something that absurd. "You just slapped some duct tape on the problem. Your brain's a trembling house of cards. All it needs is one small tap and it all comes tumbling down." I stared, at a loss for something to say. I couldn't think of an argument. His words had the distressing ring of truth to them and I knew I wasn't all right. I might never be all right. "Ooh, and if little Erin dies out there tonight?" He pressed his mouth against my ear, tracing the shell of it with his tongue. "Who else will you have?"

"Get away from me," I hissed weakly. He just smirked as he released his hold on me and stepped back. The Joker didn't have to fight to have me anymore. I was already his.

I turned away, pressing a shaking hand against my face. _"Who else will you have?"_ Christ, he was right. I didn't have anyone else in my life besides my sister. I didn't have friends. She was the only family that loved me. He would be all that was left.

How fucking pathetic was that?

"You made it! I'm so thrilled." I spun around and saw him. The Batman. I felt a surge of hope and relief. He might have looked vaguely ridiculous in all that black armor and with bat ears to boot but I hadn't seen anything that good in a long time. I knew he could save us again, my sister and I.

I backed away from the two extreme characters, too battered to be any good in a fight. Instead I listened to what was going on down on the ferries. I'd missed a vote.

_I voted no. I have nothing to feel guilty about. I voted no. _Erin repeated that to herself over and over again. But underneath those strong, defiant thoughts I could hear what she was really thinking. _I only voted no because I knew nobody else would. I only voted no so I could feel better about killing a boat full of other people. _

_How could I? How could I do this? She would be so ashamed of me._

"Erin," I whispered out loud, shocked by her thoughts. But what should I expect? I'd taught her only how precious her life was. It was true. Her life was important to me, extremely so. But I'd never thought to teach her that there are more important things than living. I had failed her. After trying so hard, fighting so hard, I had ultimately failed.

_"Please," Erin said, her heart racing in her chest. How could she do this? What would she say? "Please," she tried again. This time her voice was louder. This time the people paid attention. "We can't do this." There was a protest from the crowd but spoke over it. "There aren't just convicts on that boat. There are policemen and guards. They're people with families, too. We can't just kill them because we're afraid of dying. That's not a good enough reason." _

I stood, transfixed. I hadn't taught her that. Had I? No, I couldn't have. I had never been that good.

"There won't be any fireworks," a growling voice exclaimed, finally catching my attention. The Joker had the Batman pinned outside in the perfect position to watch the explosion. But I knew something they didn't. On Erin's boat, no one was rising to take the detonator. She was standing up and staring at everyone around her but no one met her eyes. No one spoke up against what she said. Erin trembled, so very afraid of dying, but there was also the distinct feeling of peace. _She will be proud of me now_. As if I could ever not be.

The time came and passed. Neither ferry exploded. I dared a smile, stretching my ruined lips. Then I blinked and looked toward the men frozen outside, although one was only frozen because he was being held down. "You're alone." I only caught the end of whatever the Batman was saying since I was a little absorbed in my sister's thoughts. However, I could feel the Joker's intentions even before he even reached for the detonator in his pocket.

"Can't depend on anyone. You have to do everything yourself. _Don't we?_" My breath caught in my throat. No. No, I hadn't just learned something amazing about my sister only to lose her now. NO. "Do you know how I got these scars?"

"You know what, Joker? That question is really getting _old_." I smashed a spare plank of wood over his head, giving the Batman the opportunity to free himself. Then he tossed the so-called love of my life over the ledge and into empty air. I think that was the point when I fainted, the sound of laughter ringing in my ears.

I remember a blur of SWAT uniforms around me. They carried me out of the building, all the while talking about the Joker. The Batman had saved him then left him swinging upside down for the authorities to collect. One of the officers gave me his jacket. No one had extra clothes on hand so I was stuck with the jacket that barely covered my ass. There was no way I was carrying that sheet around anymore.

Once I was at the station, I was promptly forgotten. There was so much more to do, after all, than to tend to one obviously battered woman. The hostages were getting off the ferries, the Joker had been captured again and something had happened with Harvey Dent. I found that I wasn't curious enough to care about what fate had befallen the once glorious white knight. Instead I wandered through the corridors, looking for the commissioner's office. Once I found it I curled up in one of the chairs and let the events of the evening finally sink into my head.

---

That was what had happened to me. My body had been ravished, my brain had been raped and I barely knew myself anymore. I shook in Jim Gordon's arms, crying into his jacket. Concern flowed off of him in waves, which made me cry harder. He was a good man and I shouldn't be allowed to touch him. Someone as screwed up as I was didn't belong around normal people.

"It's all right, Sybil. I've got you. You're safe with me." His voice was like a balm to my tattered emotions.

"I'm such a wreck," I whispered, voice strangled with tears. Then I felt the presence of the last person in the world I wanted to see me like this.

"Sybie?" I twisted my head around. Erin stood at the door, her blonde hair limp around her face. I had never seen her look that pale and shaken. She stared at me as if she'd never seen me before tonight. "Oh, my God, Sybie. What did he do to you?"

"It doesn't matter," I said with an attempt at sounding like I wasn't falling apart at the seams. "Are you okay?" Erin shook her head. Then her face took on an eerily familiar expression. It was a bit like looking in a mirror. Her eyes had narrowed just like mine did when I was feeling stubborn.

"It does matter. What happens to you does matter, Sybil. It's not all about me!" Jim had backed up, giving the two of us some room to work this out. I appreciated his discretion but I also wished he would stay. He would have been a good distraction.

"Erin," I murmured weakly. God, I was not up to this conversation. I didn't have the strength.

"All my life it's been about me but tonight I figured out that the world doesn't revolve around Erin Callaghan." She dropped to her knees beside me. "You're my big sister, Sybil. When I thought you were dead there were a thousand things I wanted to say. But most of all I regretted how I stood by and let you make your life completely about me. Now I want you to tell me what happened to you and I don't want you to leave anything out. We're starting fresh, right here and now. We're going to be different. We're going to be better." I stared down at her young face, wondering how on earth I'd missed this side of my sister.

"Where did you come from?" I asked aloud, daring to touch her cheek. Erin smiled at me.

"I came from you. I know I have a ways to go before I'm actually a useful person instead of decoration but with everything you taught me, I think I can do it." I shook my head.

"I don't remember teaching you this." Her smile just widened.

"You didn't have to. I was watching."

---

It's been a week since all of this took place. I didn't lose my sister that night but sometimes it feels as if I had. She's so different now. She's even taking care of me! I'm proud of how far she's come but I have to admit I miss the innocence. Erin lost her pure, untouched glow on the ferry. She learned something about human nature and she can't unlearn it. She knows now there are dark things in the night, things I have been shielding her from for years. Erin won't let me do that anymore.

I really don't know what to do with myself. Find a life, I suppose. Perhaps the Joker wouldn't have so easily bound me to him if I'd had more than just my sister to live for. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Once I heal a bit more I'm thinking of finding help regarding my gift. I've left it alone far too long. Now it's a matter of damage control. I'll need a teacher but God knows where I can find the one I need.

I have acquired a friend, however. A certain police commissioner has been popping up at my apartment regularly, checking in and offering invitations over to his house for dinner. I suppose I should say that I have three new friends since his children were both inexplicably fascinated by me. It was probably because of all the colors my bruises were turning. His wife didn't like me, though. I'm not sure why. I guess some women get suspicious when their husbands bring wealthy, unattached young women around the house. Go figure.

Now, I think I know what you're all really wondering about. What happened to the Joker? Well, that's my one really big problem.

---

I tossed in my bed, sweating as the nightmare gripped me. It had been three days since I'd seen his face but I was seeing him vividly now. His fingers stroked my cheek, trailing over my scar. That unnatural smile stretched wide as he crouched over my helpless form.

"Come visit me, my girl," he murmured against my lips. "Or I'll visit you."

I came awake with a gasp. I could still feel him on my mouth, taste his red lipstick on my tongue. That hadn't been a normal dream. I had only briefly wondered what the Joker might do in his spare time at Arkham but now I knew. He was going to practice his mind tricks. But the worse threat was the one he'd just whispered. If I didn't see him, he'd come see me. He'd break out. How? Who knows. This was the Joker. It was silly to ask.

The Joker wanted me and I couldn't tell him no.

I was in trouble. Very. Big. Trouble.


End file.
